


Professor Weasley at Hogwarts

by JamieOlivier



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22530985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieOlivier/pseuds/JamieOlivier
Summary: Charlie Weasley finally decides to retire from dragon keeping. Headmaster Mcgonagall immediately snaps him up as the new Care of Magical Creatures professor. However, he quickly learns that he's hardly the only Weasley at Hogwarts.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley (past)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Golden Sparks (Rose_Nebula)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Nebula/gifts).



> This fic is a birthday gift for my dearest friend, Golden Sparks.

Charlie Weasley had finally decided to retire. When he made the announcement they offered him his pick of reserves around the world. When he turned them down, they offered him _directorship_ of the reserve of his choice. As tempting as that was, he’d still be doing the same work, just with more responsibilities, and he’d always preferred being on the front line with the dragons anyway. He could tell how desperate they were getting when they added several zeros to his already very cushy salary and asked him to be the liaison to the DRCMC. But a desk job where he’d be required to wear formal robes to work every day was the furthest thing away from what he wanted.

And what he wanted was to leave dragon keeping while he still had all of his limbs. Maybe 46 was considered young to retire in some fields, but he’d been a veteran keeper for half of his life. He could tell he was getting slower and magic could only do so much against the fire-breathing beasts who were literally made of the stuff. Staying active in the field in any way would only tempt him back for “just one more adventure” over and over again until it finally caught up to him. He loved his work, but he loved living even more.

The day he packed up his hut on the reserve and returned to England was bittersweet. He’d said goodbye to so many colleagues over the years, usually in a much more frantic, permanent way, though often with just as many tears shed. This didn’t hurt any less, but he knew he was making the right decision.

Even though his parents would welcome him at the Burrow, he had been living alone since the day he left Hogwarts and didn’t need his mother coddling him. He’d let a small flat sight unseen and apparated directly there after clearing customs. It would do fine as a base of operations while he decided what to do with the rest of his life.

He didn’t need money. In fact, he’d lost count of how many times his vault at Gringotts had been upgraded. Bill had approached him several months after the battle about investments, and Charlie had let his big brother manage his money for him. Most of Charlie's needs had been provided for by the reserve, so Bill’s expert management of his salary had culminated in a very nice nest egg - and Charlie knew a thing or two about eggs. He wasn’t quite as well off as some of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses had been in their heyday, but if he was careful, he never had to work another day unless he wanted to.

A few days later, he sat in his small flat debating his future. Travelling seemed trite after multiple visits to all of the reserves around the world over the years, and there were few occupations he was qualified for, despite his OWLs, NEWTs, and experience. He was pulled out of his musing by the sharp tapping of an owl at his window. Convinced the animal had simply gotten turned around or was looking for the previous tenant, Charlie let it in. But when he looked at the letter tied to its leg, he was surprised to see his own name written there. 

Literally no one knew he’d returned, but there was something familiar about the green ink on the parchment. Taking it, he thanked the owl and turned the letter over in his hand, instantly recognizing the Hogwarts seal on the other side. Absently closing the window behind the owl after it flew off, he broke the seal and unrolled the letter.

_Dear Mr. Weasley,_

_It has come to my attention that you have returned to England and may be looking for employment with which to fill your days during your retirement. As it happens, the Care of Magical Creatures position has not been held on a permanent basis for some years and I think you would be well suited to join our ranks. Enclosed is the salary information and a description of what would be expected of you. I must have your response no later than the beginning of August so that I might have enough time to secure another candidate should you decline._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_   
_Headmistress_   
_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Charlie shook his head in disbelief, curious how the crafty witch had known where to find him or even that he was available to be found. Opening the second sheet of parchment, his eyes passed over the salary information and landed on the Duties and Responsibilities header. It was the standard language, he imagined: preparing lesson plans and teaching courses, marking tests and attending faculty meetings. And at the very bottom were the words _Upon successful completion of testing by the Department of Magical Games and Sports, you may also assume the duties of First Year Flight Instructor and Quidditch referee if you desire. The process will take approximately one year and will coincide nicely with Madam Hooch’s proposed retirement at the end of the school year._

He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that. She also knew how to sweeten the pot. Accepting would solve several of his issues. It would be a more permanent home than the flat. It would keep him busy. He would be far enough away from his mother's sight that he could comfortably live his life while still being close enough to keep her off his back. And finally, with the salary he wouldn't have to dip into his savings yet.

But did he want to teach? It would be an excellent use of the knowledge he’d gained, and he was pretty sure nearly every one of his nieces and nephews was currently attending Hogwarts, but he’d never seen himself as a teacher.


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie had barely been in his rooms long enough to put his trunk down when there was a knock at the door. Assuming Professor McGonagall - _Minerva_ , he reminded himself - had forgotten something, he opened it.

The witch standing on the other side was not Minerva McGonagall. She was blonde, fit, about his age, and wearing muggle clothes. She also looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place her. Charlie fought the smirk which threatened to overtake his face when her mouth fell open at the sight of him. It was a reaction he was familiar with. He knew he looked good for his age. Already broad shouldered and muscular when he’d graduated Hogwarts, Dragon keeping had done wonders for keeping him fit.

“Hi there. Can I help you?”

The witch blinked hard before shaking herself and extending her hand, which he took briefly. “Sorry. Merlin. How unprofessional of me. Cassa Raywood, muggle studies and head of Hufflepuff house. I heard Minerva leaving and thought I’d come by and introduce myself -- _Charlie_? Charlie Weasley?”

“That’s me. I’m sorry, Ms. Raywood, you look familiar, but I can’t --”

“We went to school together. I was in Bill’s year. Wow, that seems like so long ago. How have you been?”

He remembered her now, a muggleborn prefect who’d always been smiling. She’d been friendly with Tonks, who had talked about her often.

“I’ve been good. Looking forward to the change of pace dealing with students rather than dragons.”

Cassa laughed. “Oh, that’s right. You’re the famous dragon tamer.”

He scoffed and feigned humility, declining to correct her. It was a common enough misconception. He’d been a dragon _keeper_ , not a dragon tamer. There was a huge difference and the dragons made sure you knew it. Most witches and wizards, however, weren’t bothered by the distinction.

“Well, you’ll be saddened to learn the children aren’t all that different from dragons.”

“Then I’m sure we’ll get along swimmingly.” At that he smiled his most charming smile. When she looked like she wanted to say something else, he spoke before she could. “I hate to cut this short, but I’d like to get unpacked and settled in before dinner tonight. How about I meet you in the Great Hall around 7 and we can catch up?”

“Yeah, of course. That sounds great. I’ll save you a seat at the head table.” With a smile and a tiny little bounce, she turned and walked away.

Shaking his head, Charlie stepped back into his room. A few minutes later there was a second knock at his door, another new colleague come to introduce themselves. No sooner had he said goodbye to that one when yet another appeared. And that was how it went until a few minutes before seven when he saw what time it was and realized the sudden quiet he was experiencing meant everyone was probably dressing to go down to dinner. Very little unpacking had been accomplished and he had somehow promised his presence at dinner to three different witches over the upcoming week. 

After throwing a robe over his comfortable muggle jeans and t-shirt, Charlie opened his door one last time to see a familiar witch standing on the other side. 

"Hermione?"

"Hi, Charlie."

"Come in. Come in," he said standing to the side so she could pass. "What are you doing here?"

"I am the transfiguration professor and head of Gryffindor. It's my first year."

"I didn't know that. How did I not --" He stopped short when he noticed she was nervously playing with her finger - her empty ring finger. "I've missed a lot, it seems. What’s going on?"

She dropped her hands to her sides and avoided his gaze for a second. "Nothing dramatic. It wasn't working. We were best friends who fell into a relationship when we probably should have stayed friends. The last several years we’ve just been going through the motions."

"I'm really sorry to hear that. When did this all happen?"

"Over the summer. With the kids in school it was easy to go about our separate lives but once they came home again… it felt like we were pretending."

“And the family? I bet mum's heartbroken."

"We, um, haven't actually told your family yet. They know I'm here teaching now and Ron has his auror job so we're naturally going to be apart for the year… muggles call it a separation."

“After that?”

Her shrug was infinitesimal, but he could see the answer in her eyes.

“This changes nothing between us, Hermione. Whatever happens with Ron or the family, you and me, we’re okay.”

Her relief was palpable. 

━━✫・*。

Hermione eyed Charlie as they walked together towards the Great Hall. It wasn’t his offer of friendship piquing her curiosity; she knew him well enough to trust his sincerity. No, what had her side-eyeing the burly dragon keeper was his surprise appearance at Hogwarts. As far as she knew, he’d kept his new position as much a secret from the family as she and Ron had kept their separation.

There couldn't be anyone better suited to the Care of Magical Creatures position than Charlie, except maybe someone with the last name ‘Scamander’. Charlie loved dragons best of all, but he was a fount of knowledge about all animals big or small. And there was no denying he was a perfect guide to bring the students outside for class. But she couldn't imagine what had prompted him to give up his beloved dragons.

Hermione's eyes widened as they descended the stairs and she saw Cassa Raywood standing outside the Great Hall, a bright smile erupting across her face at the sight of them. Or, rather, at the sight of Charlie; Hermione had been at Hogwarts for a week and the Hufflepuff head of house had hardly spoken ten words to her. 

The other woman's smile wobbled when she realized Hermione and Charlie were walking together, but she pasted it back in place well before they reached the bottom step. 

"Hello again, Charlie. Did you get settled in okay?"

"I did. Thanks." He turned to Hermione. "Ms. Raywood and I made plans to meet for dinner and catch up. She was in Bill's year. Is that okay with you?"

"Oh," Ms Raywood interrupted before Hermione could answer. "I didn't realize you and Ms. Granger knew each other."

Charlie's eyes narrowed, and Hermione could see the gears turning in his mind. "Ms. Granger and I have known each other for years," he said diplomatically.

They'd met briefly her first year, when he'd arrived to help them with Hagrid's little dragon problem. He'd been only a few months out of Hogwarts himself then, but to their eleven year old selves, he'd been quite the sight. 

"Seems like forever ago."

"You were such a cute little firstie."

Hermione made a dismissive sound. "I wasn't much more than hair and determination."

Charlie reached up and tugged on one of her locks, which were much smoother now that she'd matured and discovered a few spells for taming it. His blue eyes were insistent when she looked up at him. "It suited you. And the determination has served you well."

"Thank you, Charlie."

Ms. Raywood tittered a bit, drawing their attention away from each other, and Hermione caught a glimpse of the raging jealousy in the Hufflepuff's gaze before she hid it behind her usual sweet expression. "Well, how nice that you have such a good friend here, Charlie. But we should hurry if we want to have time to chat over dinner."

"Hermione?"

She waved the two of them along. "Go on. We'll have plenty of time to catch up."

Two days later, Hermione looked down from the head table at the students as they trickled in for dinner. She'd had no time at all to spare for Charlie between creating her lesson plan, decorating her classroom, and the time he spent entertaining every female member of staff. 

She wasn't jealous. In order to be jealous she'd have to have some design on Charlie or claim over his time, and she had neither. In fact, even exchanging nods with him at mealtimes was more interaction than she'd had with him over the last several years. And though he sat beside her, his muscular body taking up quite a bit of space at the crowded head table, his attention was directed at Ms. Raywood, who was sitting on his other side, more than anyone else, including the students below.

Amidst the chaos, the Weasley/Potter clan entered proudly together, all but Dominique, Louis, and Hermione’s daughter, Rose, easily distinguishable from the rest of the students by their red hair. Percy's daughters, Molly and Lucy, walked alongside their blonde and brunette cousins, as did Fred's daughter, Georgia Leigh, George's son, Fred, and Ginny's boys, James and Albus.

The remainder of the cousins were joining them as first years: Fred's youngest, Daniel; George's youngest, Roxanne; Hermione's son, Hugo; and Ginny's youngest, Lily Luna. Including Charlie and Hermione and the three Potters, there were fifteen Weasleys at Hogwarts this term. 

Rose waved when she saw Hermione sitting at the head table, her happiness morphing into awe when she noticed her uncle sitting next to her mother, and she quickly caught the attention of her cousins to point them out. Immediately, the group approached the table.

"I see we've been spotted," Charlie chuckled, finally turning her way.

"They're far more excited to see you than me, I'm sure."

The children arrived in a boisterous huddle, crowding the front of the table and talking over each other to greet their uncle. 

“Hey, hey. No need to shout. We’ll have plenty of time to talk. I’m here all year.”

“All year!” 

Charlie laughed as the children responded in unison. “Yes, all year. I’m your new Care of Magical Creatures professor.”

“Wicked!” exclaimed Freddie.

But any further conversation was drowned out by the Headmistress standing and tapping lightly on her goblet with her spoon. “Students, if everyone could please find your seats. The first years will be processing in shortly.” 

Amid grumbles and calls of, “See you later, Uncle Charlie,” the small army slowly made their way to their house tables, Dominique heading for Ravenclaw and her friends there, and Albus stopping briefly to greet his godfather, Neville, on his way to the Slytherin table. The rest of them took up position near the end of the Gryffindor table, leaving plenty of space for their first year cousins. There was quite a bit of speculation that Daniel might join Albus in Slytherin, but all of the others were expected to end up in Gryffindor scarlet and gold by the end of the night.

“Bye, Uncle Charlie. Bye, Mum,” Rose said, the last one to leave.

“Mum!” echoed a voice from Charlie’s other side, and Hermione looked beyond him to see shock written across Ms. Raywood’s face. How anyone had managed to avoid news of Hermione’s marriage to Ron and the birth of their children, she didn’t know, but it seemed there was at least one witch out there who didn’t bother to read the _Prophet_.

Professor McGonagall leaned down to address them. “I do hope both of you realize that I expect a great deal of assistance corralling your…” She smiled and it was something of a grimace, “very lovely family.”

“Of course, Professor,” Hermione agreed over the sniggling laughter coming from Neville on McGonagall’s other side.

“You, too, Professor Longbottom,” she snapped. “If ever there was a Potter who belonged in Slytherin, it’s your godson.”

Neville sobered instantly, but the gaze he passed over the green and silver draped table was fond. “Yes, Professor.”

The doors at the end of the great hall opened, admitting Professor Flitwick, still head of Ravenclaw and now Deputy Headmaster, followed by approximately twenty first years.

“They get smaller every year,” Charlie breathed.

“You’d know what size they are if you spent more time at home,” Hermione chastised him with a nudge of her knee under the table.

He gestured vaguely at the great hall. “I’m here now.”

The students stopped in front of the Sorting Hat and everyone fell silent. Near the middle of the group of first years, Hugo waved up at Hermione before elbowing Daniel and pointing at Charlie. Soon, all four members of the family were waving enthusiastically.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat, demanding everyone’s attention, and the Sorting Hat began to sing.


End file.
